We Take Care of Our Own
by Zenith Aquilla
Summary: Rumpelstiltskin just can't seem to get it right. After taking Belle, you'd think he would know the repercussions of kidnapping young girls. Obviously he didn't. With the oncoming threat of Captain Hook, and all of his old enemies regaining their memories, all Rumpelstiltskin regrets is not letting her die.
1. Chapter 1

"If you are looking for a family member," Red called to the crowd of confused citizens, "Come to the front table. If you need counseling, Dr. Hopper has signup sheets."

Dr. Hopper held up a thick wad of paper, as if he felt the need to confirm Red's statement.

"If the wraith damaged your house, there are cots at the school!" she finished, walking off to deliver a pile of blankets to Mother Superior, or of recent, the blue fairy.

Rumpelstiltskin stood off to the side, one arm resting on his cane, the other around Belle. The field was coated in awakened fairy take characters, desperate to fix whatever life the evil queen had taken. Belle insisted on helping Storybrooke's population, and Rumpelstilskin's interpretation of this was watching at a distance. He didn't mind. Watching others suffer was always something he enjoyed.

"Red!" a woman cried, a baby curled in one arm, "Red, I can't find him- I- I don't even remember him being here! All I remember is before- Red please help me!"

"What's your name?" she took her shoulder kindly.

"Maid Marian, oh, please help me find Robin!" she sobbed, brown curls bouncing with each movement. The baby continued to sleep, as if nothing was wrong.

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin jolted at the same time, for different reasons. Rumpelstiltskin began to stride away, a new glint in his eye.

"No, no, you are _not_ doing this," Belle ran to catch up with him.

Robin Hood was a weakness of Rumpelstilskin's, he has spared his life in an effort to appease Belle. Belle had seen the good in that thief. Rumpelstiltskin hadn't.

He halted at his shop, almost forcing Belle to knock into him. With a flick of his hand the door flew open.

"_Where is it where is it_," he growled pushing his way through an assortment of various sized bottles.

"Where is _what_," Belle shook her head, stepping forward.

"I had a potion," he grimaced, "A potion that amplified good fortune, allowing one to leave Storybrooke during the curse. I often used it to gain more- obscure ingredients for my work."

"You think _he_ took it?" she tilted her head skeptically.

"I _know_ he took it," he sneered, "Belle, I'm going on a trip. Take care of yourself. I'll be back on the morrow."

"No! I can't let you!" she cried, stepping forward.

"No one steals from Rumpelstiltskin," he snarled, "That man did it once, and there's no way in _hell_ I'll let him do it again!"

Purple smoke started swirling around his feet.

"NO!" Belle shouted.

"Goodbye, my dear," he disappeared, a triumphant grin plastered on his face.

Belle cried on in frustration. Nothing left to do, she let herself out of the shop, hurt and disappointed. Not only disappointed in herself, but disappointed in Rumpelstiltskin.

-X-

Leah rolled over, the last traces of sleep wearing off. A glance at her clock proved it was near three a.m. Wondering what had woken her, she was distracted by a dull thumping. Overcome by curiosity, she stepped out of her bed. The night's chill stung at her bare legs, but she continued on. She pushed the door open slowly, not wanting her parents to know she was awake. Tip toeing into the living room, she recoiled at the sight before her.

"_Fifteen years? You thought you could escape me?_" the man scoffed, bringing his cane down on her father, "FIFTEEN YEARS!" he roared, "_What of Maid Marian? She's __**still l**__ooking for you, even now!"_

Her father lay drenched in a puddle of blood. A man in a suit with tanned leathery skin stood over him. He hit her dad again, but he had stopped even twitching at that point. She whimpered, drawing the man's attention to her. He whipped his head up to face her.

She cried out, running out of the room. Rumpelstiltskin cursed. He knew Robin Hood had left behind his family, but he hadn't known he started a new one. In a flash he had teleported back to the girl. She was now outside, black night gown quivering in the chilled air. Its short sleeves left her arms exposed, and they were dotted with goose bumps.

She screamed, but with a wave of his hand her voice was diminished completely. He stalked forward, pinning her to the wall of her house with his staff. She whimpered again, as his staff pressed harshly against her throat.

A flicker of realization flecked his eyes. He wanted a clean job, but this was a little girl. A fifteen year old little girl. Robin hadn't wasted any time. He released her, taking a step back. With a final glance at him, she began to run.

As soon as her back was turned, Rumpelstiltskin brought his staff into the back of her skull. Hard. She instantly crumpled to the ground, blonde hair splayed around her in a strangely angelic manner.

He lifted her into his arms bridal style, before teleporting back into the safety on the town lines. No witnesses. A clean job.

Stepping into his shop as if there was nothing unusual about it, he set the child onto the table. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he realized what a messy situation he had gotten himself into. This wasn't like taking Belle, no he had just killed the child's father.

He glared at her body, slowly rising and falling with each breath, with only one thought on his mind.

_I should have just killed her when I had the chance._


	2. Chapter 2

I shot up, sending all sorts of knick knacks tumbling to the ground. Whipping around, I instantly fell back down, holding my head. An enormous lump sat an inch and a half from my left ear. I fingered it with distaste, wrinkling my nose at the weak flutter of pain.

I tried rolling onto my stomach to hoist myself up, but I only managed to roll off the table completely. I landed on my back, knocking the wind out of me.

"Good. You're up," a man deadpanned from the other room.

He didn't seem to think it was extremely 'good' that I was up. He stepped through the doorway, eyes briefly flitting over me, "There's a broom in the corner. Make yourself needed, or I will very quickly decide that you are in fact _not_ needed."

"Did you kill my dad?" I tilted my head, squinting my eyes.

"Broom. Over there."

My mouth literally fell open. I glared openly as I grabbed the broom with more ferocity than I think I've done anything.

In short, quick strokes I angrily swept at the floor. He took a coat and a hat from a rack, and stepped halfway through the door. He seemed to remember something, and he stepped back inside.

"Be good. Take anything- _touch _anything and I'll kill you," he punctuated it with a factitious smile.

"What- that's it?"

"Have a nice day," he tipped his hat mockingly before completely withdrawing.

After making sure he was out of earshot, I threw the broom across the shop irritably. I had no idea where I was, or who I was with.

Strangely enough, I had no feelings towards my father's health. He was a thief, and a cheater, and not the best father. My memory of him was sort of a shadow, living with me, always in my peripheral vision. I didn't know him enough, love him enough, to think about him

Sitting with my legs up against the wall, I thought about what I was going to do. Just then the shop bell rang, signaling the door opening.

"I'm sorry, we're not open. I don't think…" I considered it, before finally meeting the customer's eyes.

He looked at me sideways with piercing blue eyes, mouth opened slightly in question. It morphed into a wide smirk that made my blood run cold.

"D-do you need any assistance?" I stepped back, unreasonably afraid.

"Well, I came to kill Rumpelstiltskin, but I suppose I could settle for you," he shrugged, revealing one hand had been replaced with a pointed hook.

Without warning he lunged, catching me by surprise. I scurried behind a table, putting an obstacle between us. He tilted his head at my defiance.

"What, you expect me to just lay down and die?" I peered at him.

"It'd make it a mite easier," he raised an eyebrow.

Faking one way, he immediately went the other when I tried to move that way. He caught me around the arm, pinning me against the wall. He lifted his hook against my bare neck, distractedly tracing my jaw line with the tip.

"So," he murmured, "Rumple's found himself a new toy."

I stared at him defiantly, trying my hardest to stop shaking. I could tell he was trying to intimidate me, and no matter how much I hated it, it was working.

"W-what's your name? What do you want?" I stuttered, trying to be strong.

"They call me Captain Hook," he nodded towards the hook.

"Fitting," I shrugged nervously.

"And what I want? I _want_ Rumpelstiltskin's head. But seeing he's not here…"he eyed my neck teasingly, mischief gleaming in his eyes, "What exactly _are_ your relations to the crocodile?"

"Don't know any crocodiles," I stammered.

"Well," he was growing impatient, "You work for Rumpelstiltskin, _correct_?"

"I- sweep things?" I honestly had no idea what he was going on about.

"Look- girl. It is taking every inch of my will power to not cut your throat where you stand. The only thing standing in between me and your ultimate death, is _any_ information you might have. Is there anything useful you could say?" he was completely exasperated.

"It's Leah."

"Excuse me?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief at my utter incompetence.

"Girl? No. It's Leah," I frowned.

"Well, Leah, you and I are going on a little trip. Until I figure out who you are, I am going to use all my restraint _not_ to kill you. You will be as quiet as possible, understand?"

In response I planted my knee firmly between his legs. He bent over in pain, straightening as I began to run. I burst out the side door, arriving in an alley. I began to Sprint to the street, where there were plenty of witnesses. I only stopped at the audible click of a gun.

Turning slowly, I came face to face with the barrel of a flintlock pistol.

"You'll pay for that," he grimaced, still evidently in some degree of pain.

"Wait- are you a pirate?" I eyed the ancient weapon.

"How observant," he sneered.

I was about to reply, when he stumbled forward, landing nearly on top of me. His eyes rolled back in his head and I stepped back so he didn't crush me completely. Behind him stood a young woman, wielding a chair above her head. Her brunette waves flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall.

"Who are you?" she squinted at me, her voice carrying a soft lilt.

"Who are _you_?" my mouth was quite literally hanging open, but I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed, "More importantly- who's he?"

"That," she frowned, "Is Captain Hook, and he _really _shouldn't be here. If he wakes up, he'll probably kill you, at least I'm assuming that was what he was doing, but if we leave him, Mr. Gold will kill him," she frowned in indecision.

"Well…" my eyes travelled to the dumpster. She caught my glance and grinned.

"Help me lift him," she grabbed him by the shoulders. With some effort we had successfully concealed him under a hearty layer of trash.

"Hopefully he won't be coming back for you any time soon," she grinned, "I'm Belle."

"Leah," I shook her outstretched hand.

"I haven't seen you here before," she tilted her head, "Who are you? That could explain Hook."

"People keep asking me that!" I bit my lip, "I'm Leah, what do you mean, who are you? Didn't I tell you?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a new presence, "Belle, please join me in the back room for a second," my original captor's word flowed through the alley, "And Leah. Go back inside."

I glanced at her for permission, and she nodded that it was okay. Trailing inside, I watched him take her to the back room. From there I promptly pressed my ear against the door, wondering what they could possibly be saying.

"_Was she trying to escape?"_

"_No! Escape- what do you mean escape?"_

"_Remember last night?"_

"_Unfortunately."_

"_Well, I failed to recognize he had a daughter."_

"_RUMPLE! What did you do!?"_

"_It's okay, she's like Henry. Half here half there. She'll be fine. He called her Leah."_

"_I can't believe you!"_

"_She won't be here long."_

"_What are you going to do with her?"_

"_I haven't decided yet."_

If I had been confused before, it paled in comparison to now. All I could tell is everyone around here referred to themselves as fairy tale characters. It could be some sort of cult. I knew my father hadn't made the best choices, but what could he possibly have gotten me into?


	3. Chapter 3

"Leah. Eavesdropping is not an attractive quality in young woman," Rumple called, twirling his finger in the air as if to enunciate his point. Guiltily I stepped into the doorway, biting my lip in fear and anticipation. He merely responded by grinning down at me as if I was a kindergartener. Unfortunately this happened to be more frightening then his death threats.

"Now, I would like to make things extremely, undeniably clear," he continued to speak with the same grin plastered across his face.

"Rumple-" Belle tried to end his rant.

"Buh!" He cut her off, "You, have two choices. The first being you stay here. You don't speak to me, you don't _look_ at me- you sweep. Your second option is you disappear into the night and for your sake I hope you never see me again. Choose. Now."

My mouth swung open. Neither options were particularly attractive, "I- uh- I don't… I mean…" without another word I turn and exploded through the door and outside. Extremely satisfied with my choice, I relished in the fresh air.

"Shhh," a gloved hand erupted from behind, covering my mouth completely, "Now, who might you be?" the voice was lilting and teasing, with identical superiority to the other adults seemed to possess in this foreign land.

"Not your bitch," I snarled, thrashing violently with my shoulders. Regrettably all it succeeded in doing was turning me completely. Before me sat an amused, hatted man who seemed to have stepped out of seventeenth century London fashion wise.

Now angry at my dissent, he snarled with rage, gripping my face with his gloved hand and wrapping his thumb under my jaw. Tilting my chin upwards so our eyes met, his eyes quickly skimmed over my face.

"I could _leave_," he hissed, "I could've gone anywhere. I was free! But then there was you."

"Y-y-you're mad!" I cried.

The names- all the people here were named after fairy tale characters- like Hook and Rumpelstiltskin. Mad-"You're the Mad Hatter," I whispered.

"How observant," He tilted his head, "Actually, it's Jefferson. And I'm _not_ mad."

_Could have fooled me._

"I felt it as soon as you arrived. I thought it was the boy, but your signature is so unique, I simply had to investigate," he still wore the same vaguely amused expression.

"I don't know what you-"

"No, I really think you do," the tilt in his head increased and he squinted his eyes, "You're a Halfling child, not unlike Henry. True of heart, but equally of this world. It's really interesting because, well, you really don't have any idea of what I'm talking about."

I blinked up at him, which seemed to only solidify his point. He grasped my head with his other hand, pushing me against the wall.

"Jefferson you little shit!" A woman cursed, strutting forward, "I thought you liked little girls!"

Jefferson swore, violently pushing me away. With a backward glance he darted back, disappearing into the darkness of the alley.

"Rat," she shook her head in his direction, "And who are you?" she turned on me, her blonde waves flipping across her shoulder.

"I'm Leah. And you are?"

"Emma Swan, Sheriff of Storybrooke," She offered a hand. Sometime over the period of him shoving me, I fell onto the ground. Accepting gratefully I stood with her support.

"Sort of a fairy tale name, but not a character," I looked at her, "You're the first normal-ish person I've encountered. And Storybrooke? A fitting name. Is this some sort of… eccentric club? Or-"

"It's a town actually," Emma looked at her quizzically, "A town in Maine-"

"We're in Maine?" I gasped, "But- I was- Colorado?"

"Wait, you're not from the- enchante- you came from Colorado?!" Emma froze, "What's your last name?"

"Hood. Leah Hood."

"Shit!" Emma rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "You never even- how'd you get here?

"Could we get out of this alley? This could take a bit longer than a minute."

She led me into a nearby diner, buying me an ice cream as if I was a lost little girl. In a sense I was. The words flowed freely then, all the confusion, twists, and turns. I talked about the man called Rumpelstiltskin, a man before purely reserved for childhood stories, invading my home and stealing me away. I spoke of the brunette woman, the hook handed pirate, and the mad man. I took her from stepping out of bed to stepping into the diner.

"Hey," she planted her elbows on her knees, "You wanna play a game?"

"I'm not six," I was actually fifteen and quite proud.

"No, but still," a slight smile played on her lips, "It's called 'name that fairy tale character'. I need a refresher. What's your last name again?"

"Hood."

"And- ah- what fairy tale character shares that last name?"

"Hood- hood- hood- ah- Red Riding Hood?" I guessed.

"Nah, try again," she grinned.

"Hooooood," I stretched out the word in thought, "Robin Hood?"

"Bingo."

"You're kidding."

During our conversation, she had explained to me, and I had accepted, that these were, in fact, the fairy tale characters from the stories I had grown up with. She clarified that as Jefferson had said, I was a Halfling. One of my parents were of fairy tale origins, which evidently made me an interesting case.

"My dad is- was- Robin Hood?" I wasn't sure exactly how far my belief could stretch.

"Was is kind of a strong word. He could still be alive," Emma lay a comforting hand on my knee.

I turned quickly, uncomfortable with how we had become. Emma looked over her shoulder, hiding the flash of emotion that crossed her face, "Well," she spun back, "You're a fifteen year old Halfling with no money, nowhere to stay, and no clue."

"I could stay with you," I suggested, looking at her expectantly.

"Ha, sorry kid. It's already crowded. No, you need to be somewhere safe. You've already pissed off three major bad guys. And I definitely don't trust you on your own…" Emma trailed off in thought.

"I could…" to my distaste Emma shushed me with a finger.

We sat there like that, Sheriff Swan's forefinger engulfing my vision for quite some time. So long in fact, that it gave me quite a start when she slammed her hand down on the counter with a resounding smack.

"I've got it!"

"No really," I glared up at her, rubbing my poor, shocked head.

"You can stay over in one of Red's rooms! I can pay if she needs cash," she grinned triumphantly.

"Red Riding Hood?"

"The very one."

"I thought she was a little girl," I looked up at her sideways.

"Anything else," a chocolate haired woman with rosy lips leaned over the counter, pen poised to write down our order.

"We're fine Red," Emma smiled.

"Wait- she's? Okay that's really cool," I gaped, head flipping rapidly between the two women.

"Who's your friend," Red gestured at me with the pen.

"Remember Robin?"

"Vaguely."

"Meet his daughter, Leah Hood," Emma ended it with a little flourish, "She needs a room."

Red tilted her head, "I can handle that," she smiled.

"I can totally pay for her-" Emma began, but was cut off as Red shook her head.

"No way," she smiled again, "We take care of our own."

She and Emma nodded at each other over my head in confirmation before Emma stood, "If you need anything- anything at all-"

"I know where to call," I offered her a lopsided grin.

Despite the friendly words we left on, I couldn't place a certain feeling of dread as she disappeared out the faded doors. With the ring of a tiny bell my protection vanished into the night.


End file.
